The girls did some baking — peppermint chocolate chip cookies, which are absolutely amazing.

The neighbors did some caroling.

And I did some Photoshopping.

The girls did some baking — peppermint chocolate chip cookies, which are absolutely amazing.

The neighbors did some caroling.

And I did some Photoshopping.


It was to be his biggest performance yet: the Boy was set to play “Przybieżeli do Betlejem” on his guitar for this year’s jasełka performance.

His guitar teacher had been working with him on the piece; he’d been practicing it at home (with some encouragement, it must be admitted); he was ready.
And then the amp would not cooperate. No sound. At all. The adults thought fast, put a mic in front of the guitar, and the Boy was off. He was disappointed, but pleased with not giving up.
“It’s what Tommy would have done,” I reminded him, referring to our hero Tommy Emmanuel, who plays no matter what. Technical difficulties? Guitar issues? Venue problems? Nothing stops Tommy.
“Yeah, I guess.”
































Jaselka 2019
Jasełka 2017
Jasełka 2016
Jasełka 2015
Six and Jaselka
Jasełka 2013
Jasełka
Performance
Jasełka

And just like that, fifteen years have passed.

We have a daughter who’s thinking about college, wondering what she wants to do with her life, realizing she just has a few more years at home.

We have a daughter who now possesses a learner’s permit and a strong desire to learn how to drive.


K wouldn’t let me publish it until we had sent out some of the cards.
Forty years ago today.

Had martial law not been declared, what would have happened? Would the Soviets have intervened? If they’d intervened, would that have hastened or delayed the fall of the Warsaw Pact? Would I have met K?
It’s been a while since the Boy and I went exploring behind our house. I can’t recall the last time — I don’t know that we did much exploring during the summer if any.

When we got to the place we first cross the creek, we discovered that our normal method was impossible: the bricks and stones we’d set up to step across were gone, washed away by one storm or another. We had to improvise. We had to make a plan. We had to find materials and rig everything together.

“You’re a scout — this is just up your alley!” I suggested.

In the end, we pulled several sticks together to spread our weight out and used another stick for balance. It gave us both a little sense of accomplishment, but I was just enjoying spending time with him.

When we got to the spot we have to cross for the second time, we discovered it too had washed away. Fortunately, there was a log nearby, and we simply had to put it in place.

At the end of our route, where we always exited the sewer easement (that’s essentially where we explore) into an empty lot, we saw that the house begun earlier this year is nearing completion, which means we might not be able to do this much more — at least exit onto the street and walk back via streets.

In the evening, some cards with K.

Looking through old pictures, I found this one — twenty years ago, when I tried my first (and only) cross-country skiing adventure. I didn’t get more than a few hundred meters before my feet — the muscles in my feet — were utterly cramped.

I must have done something wrong.
Today is the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, a feast day that always puzzled me even when I was actively trying to convince myself that I was a believing Catholic. Britannica defines it succinctly enough in a non-theological, non-devotional way:
Immaculate Conception, Roman Catholic dogma asserting that Mary, the mother of Jesus, was preserved free from the effects of the sin of Adam (usually referred to as “original sin”) from the first instant of her conception. (Britannica)
The question it at first raises, before the skeptic has a full understanding of the doctrine, is why God could not simply do for all humans what he did for Mary. Why not just preserve all people “from the effects of the sin of Adam” instead of this whole convoluted way of getting forgiveness in the Old Testament through blood sacrifice which then comes to full fruition in the New Testament with an actual human sacrifice (i.e. Jesus)? If he could do it for Mary, why couldn’t he do it for everyone?
A Catholic apologist at this point would explain that it’s not simply that God preserved Mary from the effects of this sin without the need of Jesus and his sacrifice. Instead, the apologist would explain, the sacrifice was applied to Mary in some kind of retroactive way. The Catholic Encyclopedia New Advent explains it thusly (emphasis added)
The immunity from original sin was given to Mary by a singular exemption from a universal law through the same merits of Christ, by which other men are cleansed from sin by baptism. Mary needed the redeeming Saviour to obtain this exemption, and to be delivered from the universal necessity and debt (debitum) of being subject to original sin. The person of Mary, in consequence of her origin from Adam, should have been subject to sin, but, being the new Eve who was to be the mother of the new Adam, she was, by the eternal counsel of God and by the merits of Christ, withdrawn from the general law of original sin. Her redemption was the very masterpiece of Christ’s redeeming wisdom. He is a greater redeemer who pays the debt that it may not be incurred than he who pays after it has fallen on the debtor. (New Advent)
Yet far from making this a simpler solution that solves the question of why God didn’t just do this for everyone, it makes an even more convoluted and illogical argument. Somehow, an event that hadn’t yet taken place affected the conception of the person who would later give birth to the individual to whom this salvific event would take place — see, there’s just no way to explain it without it sounding like some kind of theological Rube Goldberg contraption.
The Boy has become interested in ciphers and codes. They learned about them in school this week and so he wants to learn about more of them. Tonight, he and I were writing things back and forth in pig pen cipher:

It’s a simple replacement cipher, but the Boy loves it.

During our evening walk, I mentioned to him that Papa knew a real code: Morse Code.
“Really?!”
I thought Papa had mentioned that so many times, doing his “da-dit-dit” routine to spell various words out in code, that no one could have forgotten about that. Apparently, E had.
“I wish Papa was still here.”
We’ll be having those moments for some time to come, I think.

